A Good Horror Flick Before Bed
by 07bumblebee07
Summary: Hiccup gets scared of shadows in the dark... (HiccupxJack/Hijack/Frostcup)
_Another drabble :)_

 _Hiccup gets scared of shadows in the dark..._

* * *

 **A Good Horror Flick Before Bed**

"Bastard get off. You put this film on, so watch it already or I'm going to sleep." Hiccup kicked the boy harder than he meant to, watching as Jack pulled his shin closer. "Ow, that hurts dammit," he pouted, rubbing the skin where it was sure to bruise.  
Hiccup bit his lip but kept his head turned. He hadn't meant to use his fake leg. And he still had his prosthetic attached. He knew that thing hurt when he used it.

"Keep your hands to yourself then." Hiccup pulled the duvet slightly higher, glaring when Jack shuffled closer, before forcing his eyes back to the glow of the TV.  
"Hey I just want to cuddle," he said. "Your cuddling involves groping."  
"Not always."  
" _Always,"_ Hiccup hissed, kicking Jack again, watching the boy fall from the bed this time. He landed on the floor noisily, grumbling to himself about the cold where it touched his bare skin.

Hiccup trained his eyes back to the Zombie flick, watching as the remaining group of survivors locked themselves in a room with no exit except one door which was quickly blocked by Zombies on the other side–  
"Classic," Jack laughed, sliding back into bed, although keeping a respectable distance from his irritable partner. "Bet the Brunette dies first."  
"Do you have something against Brunettes?" Hiccup spat, pulling the duvet higher when Zombies started clawing through the floorboards. He pulled his legs up, listening to Jack laugh slightly. "No, it's just she's the classic character. She's hot," he said, oblivious of Hiccup's quickly narrowing eyes. "She's quickly turning into a badass although still a bit of a klutz and everyone is gunning for her to jump the main character any second. Of course she's going to die." Jack laughed again, reaching over for the remote to turn the volume up.

"When's she going to die then?"  
"Not yet," Jack said, his eyes glued to the screen. It was a good Zombie flick. And he _had_ put it on, so it was a shame if he didn't enjoy it.

"The black guy is going to die now–"  
"Oh, so now you're a racist."  
"No I'm not it's just, oh. Yep, there he goes," Jack said, pointing to the screen where the character was being mauled to death, separate body parts being feasted on by Zombie crawlers as they dragged the limbs back beneath the floorboards. "Who dies next?"  
"No one yet. They're going to find a weapon in the room. Something ridiculously overpowered, like a shotgun or maybe a flamethrower or–"

"Grenade."

Jack fixed Hiccup with an amused look. "They're not going to find a grenade in that room. That's too much of a risk. There's nowhere to throw it and even if they used it, they'd be caught in the blast." Hiccup folded his arms, pulling his legs closer to his body. "No I'm pretty sure he's going to find a grenade."  
"And what makes you say that?"

"There was a flag by the door when they ran in. If you notice he's just replaced his burnt trainers with army boots and shoved an army trunk against the door. What's-her-face just found a pen knife, there's a footlocker against the far wall, the place looks like an abandoned bunker–"  
"So if it's a bunker, how come the Zombies got inside through the floor boards?"

"Military experiments underground. Secret lab corridor system. That's why the Zombies appeared everywhere at once. Notice they came from the sewers and the grated reservoir first," Hiccup answered simply. Jack pouted, turning back to the screen. "Well you're going to be so gutted when he pulls out a potato gun."  
"Nope, grenade."  
"Where is it then?"  
"In the army trunk."  
"But they've just used that as part of the barricade."  
"Exactly," Hiccup said, pushing himself to sit up a little more. "The Zombies are going to burst throw the door, push the barricade into the room. The floor won't be able to take it so they'll all fall down into the basement. The trunk will break, contents spill, blah blah blah. Muscle man is going to find the grenade and throw it, but he'll be caught by the Zombies while the rest escape." Jack looked at the screen, watching the characters attempt to break the back wall with battered tools.  
"Nah. I think you've got it wrong," he said, slowly shuffling closer to where Hiccup was sat, a little too engrossed in the film.

"Nope, I'm right," Hiccup smiled, watching as everything unfolded as he had predicted.  
"How did you know that?" Jack asked, watching the remaining survivors drop down into the basement of the abandoned bunker.

"Skill."  
"That's not a skill."  
"Neither is snowball throwing, but you seem to think it is."

Jack spat out his tongue, like he did when he was sulking, nestling further into the pillow. It seemed conversation was over for the time being as the movie continued. Hiccup watched. Stereotypical flickering lights, the endless echo of dripping water. The sounds of heavy breathing the quick glances over their shoulders…

* * *

Jack was already asleep by the time the credits rolled onto the screen. Hiccup was wide awake. He was sat up, his back against the bedframe, the duvet pulled up to his nose. He wanted a drink, but he was scared to leave the bed. He was hungry, but Hiccup didn't know if there were Zombies lurking downstairs.  
Maybe one was hiding under his bed...

Now Hiccup knew that this was preposterous. It was just his head, over imagining scary things.

And that scratching sound was probably just Toothless in his sleep.  
Not undead hands clawing through the floorboards under the bed, ready to grab at his ankles as soon as he took a step from the bedframe.  
And that heavy breathing was Jack snoring, not a Zombie locked in the closet, trying to get out.  
And that tapping on the window was just the tree branch.

Not a zombie.

Not a ghost, nor a ghoul.

It wasn't a vampire or a werewolf.

Hiccup knew there was nothing under the bed.  
He knew there was nothing in the closet. Jack was beside him.  
There were no monsters. Besides, Jack would laugh at him if Hiccup woke the boy up to make him accompany the Brunette downstairs for a glass of water.

Slowly, Hiccup turned to the side of the bed. He used the light from the TV to spy his slippers, near the bedroom door. As quick as he could, trying to ignore his overactive, irritating brain, Hiccup slipped from the warmth of the bed. He climbed into his slippers, scrambling for his dressing gown hung on the back of the door, all the while hoping that he didn't wake Jack. He knew that Jack would only laugh at him.  
 _Again._

The corridor was cold and the darkness unwelcoming. The TV light barely lit past the door frame, leaving Hiccup to swallow his irrational fears and step onto the dark landing. The floorboards creaked and groaned with every shaking step. Hiccup's mind was working overtime. He could feel imaginary eyes watching him from every nook, every cranny of the hallway. He kept his hands gripping the folds of his dressing gown, worried that if he extended one forward to feel where he was going, he might just loose his fingers to a ravenous zombie.  
 _Not that it was possible_ , he told himself, letting his fingers creep to the wall, feeling the smooth texture of wallpaper beneath his fingers.

Hiccup got to the top of the stairs. And stopped.  
It was like a deep, never ending pit of shadows and darkness.  
Hiccup couldn't see anything. He froze on the top step, trying to calm himself down. There was nothing there.  
No monsters, no ghouls, no ghosts. No zombies, no vampires or werewolves.

Only pitch black.  
And that was scary in itself.

Slowly, Hiccup lowered on foot, and then another. He descended into the darkness, his hand on the wall to guide him. At last he reached the bottom. Or so he had thought, when his next foot fell through empty air. Hiccup almost slipped, but managed to right himself in time.  
Silently laughing at himself, the boy stepped onto the cold tiled floor of the hallway. He flicked on the light, shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness. But at least all was better now. He could see where he was going.  
Hiccup pushed his way into the kitchen, deciding a cup of tea was more inviting than a glass of water. He hummed to himself as he worked, trying to ignore the voice in the back of his head.

 _They're watching you._

They can see you...  
Through the windows, through the conservatory.

 _Don't look._

 _Don't look._

Hiccup felt his hand flinch as he placed the sugar back in the cupboard. He could feel himself aware of the garden.  
Suddenly, the open plan layout of the house seemed threatening. There was nowhere to hide.

 _They're coming._

Hiccup shut his eyes quickly, trying to think of the most annoying song that could drown out the voices. He smiled to himself, when his head was full of Jack rendition of "Say You Like Me." Not an annoying song, but it did the job nonetheless. Hiccup smiled, focused on the out of tune lyrics, watching his feet as he walked to where the kettle had finished boiling. He poured it in his cup, grabbed the milk as well, focusing only on the task, and not the faint, quiet tip toe, or footsteps….

Hiccup was too absorbed in his task. He didn't hear. He was too busy trying not to look at the garden, trying to keep his head off the ideas of monster lurking in the shadows–

"AAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Hiccup felt the cold hand on his shoulder. He spun around, his heart beating ten to the dozen….  
"Sorry, it's only me," Jack said, shocked at Hiccup's reaction. And how he suddenly burst into tears. "Wha, Hiccup! What's wrong?" Jack looked shocked at the boy's reaction, his only instinct was to hug him.

"Sorry," I didn't meant to scare you," he half smiled, recalling moments the two had spent like this before. When they were only teenagers, Jack had lost count how many times Hiccup had woke with nightmares from scary films or creepy thoughts. Even scare pranks that Jack had pulled for a laugh.  
Hiccup hated showing how nervous he always was, and he was always embarrassed afterwards, but Jack didn't mind.

"Bastard, asshole, shit-head," the Brunette cussed, reeling off every insult he could think of. "Stupid, idiot snowflake–"  
"Snowflake?"  
"Fuck off," Hiccup growled, his fingers still entwined in Jack's pyjama bottoms, refusing to allow the boy to step back. "Sorry Hic," Jack smiled into the boy's shoulder.  
Sometimes he found it amusing that Hiccup got scared of his own shadow. But he loved it even more when Hiccup would cling onto Jack like this.

Maybe that was why he had deliberately chosen a scary Zombie flick.

* * *

 _Meanie Jack :P_


End file.
